No Regrets

Summary: A long term undercover assignment pushes Starsky over the edge

Chapter 1

It was dark when he quietly opened the door, making sure to
put the key back on the ledge above the portal before he silently entered the
place. Although he could barely see, he knew his way around his partner’s
apartment, almost as well as he knew his way around his own. He was also
cognizant of the fact that Hutch was sleeping; he could hear the blond’s slow
and heavy breathing coming from the bedroom alcove, as his eyes slowly adjusted
to the darkness within. Somehow the sound of Hutch’s soft snores were soothing
and almost comforting to the weary, dark haired biker.

The brunet silently walked into the alcove where his partner
slept, his slow, deliberate movements were cautious and almost predatory. There
was a sort of animal grace to the swagger of the man who walked over to the
side of the moonlit room, only to stand quietly in the shadowy corner; his dark
blue eyes narrowed, as he watched the blond for a minute while he slept
fitfully on the bed.

Starsky tilted his head slightly wondering what Hutch was
dreaming about, as he tossed and turned on the sheets. The curly haired brunet
pondered whether to wake the blond or not, when he suddenly saw his partner
gently smile in his sleep, his lips lifting slightly at the corners of his
mouth, his features softened in slumber.

The adam’s apple convulsed in the rugged biker’s throat and
he swallowed down the lump that had formed there, watching as Hutch’s sleepy
smile slowly faded away. For some reason, seeing his partner like that made his
heart ache and the brunet turned his gaze away from Hutch’s face and focused on
the ceiling above, blinking back the burning tears that suddenly brimmed his
eyes.

Starsky scrubbed the back of his hand impatiently across his
face and sighed softly, willfully composing himself before walking over to the
window to cautiously peep out from behind his partner’s curtains, looking down
at the quiet and deserted moonlit street fronting Venice Place. He didn’t think
he was followed here, but it couldn’t hurt to be cautious.

Although everything was still and peaceful, the dark haired
detective couldn’t shake the uneasy, agitated feeling that coursed through his
body. He felt jumpy and apprehensive, his fingers twitching nervously,
adrenalin pumping. After what happened tonight, he didn’t know how much longer
he could last undercover as an outlaw biker. Six months of riding and carousing
with his “Minion” brothers were starting to wear him thin.

‘Brothers?’ Starsky shook his head, that outlaw
terminology came so easily nowadays, and the dark haired detective reminded
himself that these ruthless men were not his brothers . . . they were the bad
guys, and it was his job to turn them all in one day.

The curly haired detective gently pressed his forehead
against the window glass, his long dark lashes pressed against his cheeks, as
he clenched the curtain tightly in his fist. The faces of his outlaw ‘brothers’
flashed eerily behind his closed lids. The grinning visage of “Diesel” floated through his mind’s
eye. They had become very tight these past few months, and the chapter
president of “The Minions” had begun to trust Starsky, or “Snake” as they
called him, with a lot of vital and incriminating club information that the
detective had been secretly filtering out to the Feds.

He remembered how these burly, long-haired men; their
arms, backs and chests tattooed and scarred, had accepted him into their world,
thinking he was one of them, giving him solidarity and a place to hide,
congratulating him from escaping the bonds of prison life as they gave him hugs
and slaps on the back. These men stood beside him, looked up to him and called
him ‘brother’, yet they were so different from the one man who was closer to
him than his own blood brother.

Hutch.

Starsky turned to look back at his
partner who had one hand curled under his chin as he slept on his side.
The moonlight that spilled through the curtains illuminated his golden locks,
causing it to shine like a halo in the darkness around him. The almost
innocent, boyishly look on his peaceful face brought a small smile to the lips
of the brunet, softening the hard lines around his mouth. God, how he missed
Hutch!

He missed everything about his partner . . . the way his sky blue eyes could
turn icy blue when he was angry, and then melt to liquid softness when he was
feeling sentimental. He missed the way Hutch stuttered when he was feeling
awkward or unnerved by something, or the way he could turn his voice into warm,
soothing honey. He missed the good- natured bantering they always shared, the
way they could almost read each other’s minds when they were out on the
streets, and the way Hutch would shyly sing along to the strumming of his
guitar; but most of all, he missed the innate goodness that was Hutch, the way
he would comfort and embrace frightened victims or little kids, the way he
handed out dollars to drunks and drug addicts on the street when he thought his
partner wasn’t looking, or the way he would lay his large, warm hand on a
shoulder to comfort with his touch. All of those little quirks that endeared
his tall blond friend to his heart was something Starsky sorely missed these
many months, as he assumed the identity of “Snake,” an outlaw biker from New York.

Starsky let the curtain slowly slip out of his hand and
turned to walk silently back to the dark corner, leaning his back against the
wall as he tilted his head slightly to one side, his dark blue eyes glittering
in the dark as it caught the silvery shimmer that shone through the window,
studying his partner once more in his sleep.

In repose, the heavy crease between Hutch’s brow disappeared
and his soft tousled hair added to the tall blond’s look of boyish innocence.
Happy memories of times spent together with his best friend flashed through the
brunet’s mind and it filled his heart with a lonesome longing.

Since the failed attempt on his life by Gunther’s hit men
three years ago, Starsky had grown even closer to his partner whom he could
thank for his miraculous return to the force. If it weren’t for Hutch’s
steadfast belief and constant encouragement, Starsky knew he would never have
been able to make it through those grueling therapy sessions and those moments
where self doubt and unbearable pain made him want to throw in the towel and
give up.

During that year of recovery, they had lived in each other’s
back pocket and their bond grew even stronger, erasing all of those hurtful
things they had done to one another before he was shot. As Starsky slowly
healed and gained his weight back, Hutch too had slowly changed, reverting back
to his old self, shaving off his mustache and shortening the length of his
hair. He had dropped a few pounds and was now wearing those old corduroys he
dug out from the back of his closet.

By the time Starsky returned on the force, his blond partner
looked like the Hutch of yore and along with the metamorphosis, their already
close relationship grew even stronger. If the truth were known, being away from
Hutch’s warmth and friendship was killing him. Hutch was the yin to his yang,
the balance to his darker side, the other half of his soul.

All these months alone and under, the things he’d seen and
done to keep his cover intact had hardened him somehow, and seeing his partner
lying there so vulnerable and peaceful made him feel almost dirty inside . . .
unclean and filthy . . . especially now that he was standing so close to the
golden light of Hutch. He knew he was sinking in the mire of despair and
destruction, and no matter how much he tried to claw for solid ground, the
undertow pulling him down was far stronger.

Starsky wearily hung his head, silently berating himself for
coming here. The need to see Hutch tonight had been so strong, that he’d risked
the whole operation just to be here, yet like a man who hadn’t seen the sun for
weeks, being near Hutch made him hurt, made him want to shy away from the pure
light and goodness that was his partner.

He clenched his fists, attempting to slow down his racing
heartbeat, squelching down the jumpiness he felt jolting throughout his body,
making him want to haul ass on his Harley or run somewhere . . . anywhere
. . . needing to be on the move. Standing quietly like this was tearing him up
inside, making him feel agitated and uneasy. He fought for control, knowing the
reason his body was reacting this way, but he refused to think about it;
pushing the guilt he felt down into the darkness of his soul where it festered
and grew.

A slight murmur from the slumbering blond made the
streetwise cop quickly lift his head, his dark blue eyes alighting on the
familiar features of his partner’s face. ‘Would Hutch be able to understand
and forgive him for what he’d been doing?’

‘Oh God, Hutch . . .’

The brunet felt the trembling in his limbs and he slowly
slid his back down the wall, his jean clad bottom stopping his descent as it
touched the floor. The weary detective pulled his knees up, laying his arms
over it, stormy blue eyes leaving the blond’s peaceful face to stare off into
the darkness as his mind wandered.

He had done things he wasn’t proud of to survive in the dark
world of the “One-percenters”.
He’d done things he knew that Hutch would never have done, and it ate
him up inside. He felt like he was being swept away on a dark, rushing tide and
Hutch was his lifeline. He needed to feel his partner’s “goodness”, to feel the
warmth of his embrace, to bask in Hutch’s strength, he needed to remember what
it was like to be one of the good guys again, to feel . . . whole. He was
losing himself under the guise of the outlaw biker named Snake. His mind
rationalized that if he could spend just a few minutes with Hutch, he would be
able to get it together and find himself. Hutch would be able to make
everything right. If there was anyone he could depend on . . . it was Hutch.

And yet, it took all of his strength and courage just to
come here tonight. A big part of Starsky agonized over what his partner would
think of him, once he learned about what he’d done to keep his cover. It
unnerved him to be here, allowing himself to be judged, but Starsky knew he
couldn’t go on with this pretense if Hutch didn’t absolve the guilt and shame
that burned within him.

The brunet sighed and buried his face into his arms, his
mind drifting back over tonight’s events, hearing the pleas from the man named
Brody ringing in his ears as he begged for forgiveness. Remembering how the
club members ganged together like a pack of rabid wolves only to beat the man
to a bloody pulp. He’d seen some violent outbreaks before, but this time, he
was made to throw the first punch that sent the rest of the outlaws into the
fanatic fray, and though he tried to inconspicuously help Brody by pushing some
of the members away from the bloodied man, pretending to want to maim the man
all by himself, Diesel had finally pulled him away from the mauling and had
told him to go home. The brunet closed his eyes tightly, agonizing over what he
did, yet he really had no choice in the matter, egged on the way he was to
prove his loyalty to the club.

Starsky knew “Sniper”, the vice-president of the club, was
watching him like a hawk. For some reason, Sniper, who was always paranoid and
nervous, had singled out “Snake” as his personal scapegoat these last three
months, probably because of his jealousy with the growing camaraderie and
friendship Starsky was building with Diesel, the president of “The Minions”.

Starsky wearily dragged his hand through his long, unruly
curls and stifled the sniffle, rubbing the back of his wrist against his nose.
His mind drifted to his chapter’s leader. There was something that the
detective truly liked about Diesel. His long, shaggy, sandy-colored hair and
his light blue eyes, somehow reminded him of Hutch. Though he was a hardened
biker who had come from the wrong side of the tracks, there was a charismatic
toughness and a streetwise wisdom that made his men follow him loyally. He led
his chapter with an iron fist and a keen mind, but he was also fair and
discerning when it came to making decisions about disciplining any wayward
member of the club. His followers respected him, and Starsky was no different.
Diesel was someone who warranted respect.

Sniper on the other hand, was almost ruthless and vulgar in
the way he treated people; from his women to the new prospects who wanted to
join the outlaw motorcycle club, enraptured with the idea of “free living”. The
lean, red-headed, bearded vice president, reminded Starsky of a wily, hyped up
weasel who wanted to make sure he intimidated all those beneath him just to
keep his place in the pack’s hierarchy. It was obvious that he viewed Snake as
a threat to himself, and the curly haired biker’s friendship with Diesel was a
constant thorn to his side. Starsky could feel himself sneering in disdain as
he pictured the creep in his mind’s eye. He relished the day that he could put
Sniper behind bars where he truly belonged. The man was an asshole with a few
loose screws rattling in his head, a true menace to society.

Starsky knew much of Sniper’s paranoia was caused by the
amount of drugs that he ingested daily, making him wary and prone to violence,
and thinking of the way Sniper used his women disgusted the dark haired
detective. In the world of the outlaw motorcycle clubs, women were treated
worse than dogs, and that was something that didn’t sit well with the brunet.
It was difficult to watch the wild gang orgies and the manhandling of the
ladies who hung out with the members of the club.

It never failed to amaze the undercover detective how women
were attracted to some of these lowlifes. They came into the clubhouse, looking
for fun and action and many of them chose to stay with the motorcycle members
though they weren’t treated with the respect they deserved. Wives or
girlfriends were labeled as ‘old ladies’ and many of them wore tattoos on the
back of their shoulders that said “Property Of” followed with the name of their
man. Other women, who did not belong to any one man, were kept in service to
the whole club and were labeled as “Mamas” or “Sheep”. These women had sex with
any member, or members, that wanted them. They were like the club’s whore. In
the world of the outlaw bikers, women were considered nothing more than a slave
to fulfill a man’s needs.

The weary brunet could feel his body stiffen suddenly, as he
heard the rustling of bed sheets. He could almost ‘feel’ the warmth of his
partner’s gaze coming from across the room.

“Starsk?”

The soft, familiar voice of Hutch nearly did him in. He
heard the creak of the bed as the blond stirred.

“Starsky? Hey . . . I didn’t hear you come in . . .” Hutch
said softly, worried that something might have gone wrong, his senses kicking
in, as the residual fuzziness of deep sleep slowly released him. Hutch didn’t
know what made him wake up from a dead sleep, but he somehow “knew” that his
partner was near and that he needed him. Perhaps it was years of working
together on the streets, but his “Starsky sense” never failed him. The tall
blond leaned over to turn on the small lamp sitting on the table beside his
bed.

“Don’t.”

The clipped word, though whispered, had a hard edge to it
and Hutch immediately pulled back his hand, choosing instead to sit up and peer
in the direction of the huddled mass that sat across from his bed in the corner
of the dark room.

The tall blond squinted in the dark, trying to make out his
partner’s features that was obscured by the shadows, “Hey buddy . . . you okay?
Are you hurt?” Hutch asked gently, making sure to keep his voice soft and soothing.
He knew something was wrong by the sound of his friend’s voice. Hutch was
worried that the brunet might’ve be hurt or wounded, but because he was unable
to turn on the light, he couldn’t see how much damage his partner had
sustained. “Let me turn on the . . .”

“Hey . . . it’s okay . . .” Hutch said slowly, trying to
assess his partner’s mood, feeling the dark waves of despair that bombarded him
from across the room. Hutch could feel the fine hairs rising on his neck,
knowing something was dreadfully wrong. He made to get out of bed, but was
stopped short by the cold warning of his partner.

“Stay put Hutch . . . you come any closer and I’m outta here
. . .” Starsky whispered harshly, getting quickly to his feet, rubbing his
finger under his nose as he sniffled in the dark.

Hutch cocked his head, light blue eyes narrowing as he eyed
his partner. He could barely make out the features of his dark haired friend as
he quickly stood, his back pressed defensively against the wall, the air almost
crackling with the tenseness of the moment.

Hutch could feel that his partner was ready to bolt and he
attempted to calm him down, noticing that he was wearing the “colors” of the
outlaw club, a sleeveless denim vest with different patches sewn on the front.
He could make out the diamond shaped 1% er patch that proclaimed the biker as
an outlaw motorcycle member who considered himself above the law, and he knew
that the back of the vest was decorated with the emblem of the “The Warriors,”
the outlaw club from the Brooklyn chapter that Snake was a member of.

The tall blond remembered how the Feds gave them a brief
lecture on outlaw bikers. They explained how the term “outlaw” came from the
AMA (American Motorcyclist Association) in the 1950’s, when they stated that 99
percent of all bikers were law-abiding. It was only 1 percent of bikers who
were considered outlaws; their alleged involvement with criminal activity such
as dealing with firearms, murder, rape, the sale and production of illegal
drugs, stealing and trading motorcycles and their parts all added to general
attitude of being outside of the law-abiding society. These “outlaw”
motorcyclists embraced the term one-percenters and made patches that they
proudly wore as part of their “colors.”

Hutch swallowed, giving his partner the once over; he could
see how these past few months had hardened Starsky. He knew he had to be
cautious . . . that anything he said could be misconstrued, sending his partner
out the door. He could hear the soft sniffles coming from the corner and he
strained to see his partner’s face in the dark.

“You sick, Gordo? You caught a cold?” the blond asked
gently, unable to keep the worry and concern out of his voice. The short
distance to his partner seemed like miles with the tangible ‘wall’ Starsky had
put up between them, but Hutch was determined to knock it down.

At the brunet’s continued silence, Hutch softly said, “How
about if I make us some coffee? We could talk some . . . if you want . . . I’ve
missed you.” Hutch could see his
partner stiffen at those last three words, his eyes slowly adjusting to the
darkness, using what little light that came from the window to see his dark
haired friend

Hutch waited in the almost electrically charged silence that
ensued, hoping his partner would choose to stay. There was no way that Hutch
would let him leave the premises in the condition that he was in, and if it
took getting physical to make Starsky stay, then Hutch would do it to keep his
friend safe.

The tall blond was about to say something when Starsky
softly whispered, “I’m sorry I woke you . . . I jus’ . . . I dunno why I . . .” The brunet’s voice quavered in
the darkness and then faded into nothingness.

“Hey . . . I’m glad you’re here, buddy,” Hutch said quickly,
filling in the awkward silence, happy to see the hard shell around his partner
softening a bit, if only he could see Starsky’s expression . . . “I’d really like to put this lamp on so
that I can see you Starsk.” He could hear his partner’s breath quicken suddenly
in the stillness of the room.

“No!” his partner’s voice rasped out, “It was a mistake to
come here Hutch . . . I-I gotta get out . . .” Starsky said, a choked sound escaping
from this throat as he turned quickly to exit the room.

“Damn!” Hutch swore softly under his breath as he jumped out
of bed to race after his dark haired partner.

snowview03:
This is the first book I have read on this app and I loved it! When I read the title I thought about the hunger games, but this novel is so much more. Some book have a comparison between other books that fallow like premises so i will do my own: Arena has the compellingly emotional stresses and t...

Aki Trilee:
This is one of the best books I've ever read. The author tells a story about a girl who goes through so much stress but able to find true love. Beautifully written, very emotional and romantic. I ended up staying up until three in the morning so I could keep reading. FLAWLESS!

nevavap:
This book is one of the best books I have ever read ,to be honest this is the first book which I like reading again and again , even though I have read it more than five times......Yeah , so its like a modern fairytaleTo all those readers ,who are finding a romantic drama book ,then you are at t...

N_F_G:
This story was fantastic! It was really enjoyable, and the characters and locations felt real to me as I read the story! Celeste was an amazing character, who survived all her struggles, and I felt the author did an excellent job writing about suicide and self harm- in a sensitive, authentic mann...

Ariel:
First book from the Author I've read, and am extremely impressed and very much satisfied that this story was a short-story, yet, filled with great writing, fantastic characters, and all I'd like is more, please. Malice, she is my favorite!!

PersephanieBoyce:
I was intrigued with the subject of this book from the snip it I read, and as I continued to read I felt like I was inside the characters brain. His thought processes, his memories, everything was so beautifully and forcefully made aware.The descriptions were vivid and detailed. At times, I did t...

Jason Phang:
I'm pretty new to Inkitt (this is only my 4th book) and I must say I've been thoroughly impressed by the quality of the authors here. Remnants of Chaos is an excellently written book that hooks the reader, and doesn't let go. There are some grammatical and typographical errors, but nothing too se...

ElusiveBadwolf:
This book was so beautiful to read. I loved how Lizzy was finishing Hayden's list off for he self couldn't complete it and now she is learning to move on. In the end i cried, because i couldn't think about moving on if i was in her position. And how she had forgiven him by not being there with he...

Chevonne Prinsloo:
I loved this book.. I didn't want to stop reading it! just my kind of book... I really love how the plot of the story carries along. I hope there are more books to follow after this one! I like the way she describes how Rogue is feeling and the way she shows the emotions going through Rogu. I als...

Muhammed Arfin:
really nice.I m reading novel after a long time.it is really fascinating.those people interested in espionage will like this tale.if one needs to advance his know how about espionage this book is your destination

Isha Chaudhari:
Amazing book ...the most beautiful part is the kind of relationship Carla has with Peter. However, the epilogue was the one that surprised me the Most....Carla getting married to Peter....when in the book her relationship is mostly discussed with Ridian.Was a bit confusing thus.Lovable book that ...

Alkira Joan:
Great story, I found it hard to read especially the dialogue. You just need to fix up some spelling errors and the gramma .I enjoyed this book. was a little hard to get though.,.,..,.,.,,..,.,.,, , , , ,.,, , , , , , , ,., ,,.,,,,,

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